


Acquired Tastes

by Izzoso



Category: Wild Kratts
Genre: M/M, No Krattcest, Not really any smut either, Rarepair, i guess, thank goodness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:54:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23035855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izzoso/pseuds/Izzoso
Summary: Chris is kidnapped by Gourmand, but the experience is not what he was expecting.
Relationships: Chris Kratt/Gourmand
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	Acquired Tastes

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this was a challenge someone gave me a long time ago: To try and make this pairing "romantic" and not my preferred "rapey". It's such a mess. I really struggled to write this, let alone finish it. I'm sure you'll be able to tell in which parts I started to lose all interest in it, so I hope it's not too awful overall. I mean, how on earth do you make anyone fall for such a creep? Especially our dear, sweet, green angel. 
> 
> Please enjoy this piece of work that you're probably only reading for shock value lol. Ignore the usual spelling mistakes, grammar errors, and don't fall into any plot holes!

Chris was starting to wonder if he would get fat before he managed to escape or be rescued. He thought about this when he woke up, for the third time in a week, to the sound of Gourmand cheerfully singing in the kitchen and the sound of eggs frying in a pan. The man was actually an excellent cook, Chris hated to admit, and had thankfully only offered up vegetarian dishes so far. The sound of clanking frying pans drew him out of his thoughts. Chris tried not to picture the man’s forearms with the sleeves rolled up. It was one of the extremely few things he found attractive about the man. Chris was a sucker for strong arms and big hands.

But Gourmand was a monster. He was an animal poacher and now a kidnapper. Chris absolutely hated him, but since he’d been trapped here, the man had cooked gourmet animal-friendly meals, asked how well he'd slept, and so far hadn’t done anything to hurt him. Chris almost felt like his guest. Almost.

Chris entered the kitchen and sat at the island, already reaching for the fresh pressed coffee and a mug. He grimaced at how comfortable he had become here, on Gourmands boat. Or jet. Or was it truck? Whatever this interchangeable contraption currently was.

The chef turned around, sliding a plate across the counter without breaking song. He did give Chris a quick wink, which the younger man completely ignored.

“No way. I can’t believe you’re serving me this.” Chris frowned, pushing the beautifully arranged salad away from him.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Gourmand frowned, crossing his arms. “First I can’t use animals, and now I can’t use vegetation? There is no winning with you annoying brothers.”

“Gourmand, these Western Blue Flag iris’ are rare.” Chris explained, picking up a purple petal from his plate and twirling it between his thumb and finger. “They’re listed as threatened. You had to know that.”

“Pffft. These? They’re only rare in this province. Cross the border into Montana and they grow like weeds!” Gourmand waved his hand dismissively, turning back to the range. It was now obvious they were in Alberta, Chris thought as he tucked the knowledge away for later. His escape plan had been seriously lacking in details so far.

“Then cross the border and harvest them there!” Chris huffed, grabbing a piece of spinach from under the flower garnish.

“You’re being ridiculous.” Gourmand huffed, shaking his head.

“Have you ever considered cooking with farmed ingredients?” Chris wondered. “Buying locally grown product is a huge trend in the cooking industry right now.”

“And since when did you become a culinary business specialist?” The chef peeked over his shoulder.

“I could ask you a similar question. When did you get so knowledgeable in plants?” Chris pointed out. “You knew that the Western Blue Flag is rare in Alberta but not in Montana. They’re a ‘weed’, as you called them.”

“Have you tried hiking through the grasslands when those flowers are blooming in Montana? My chef whites were purple by the time I was done.” Gourmand motioned to his vibrant white uniform. “Believe me, Green Pea, they’re a weed.”

“You hike?” Chris asked, shocked. He didn’t bother to ask why the man was hiking in chef whites. He was already struggling to wrap his head around the first fact.

“Sure. All the best animals are off the beaten path.” The chef grinned, enjoying Chris’ hypothetically ruffled feathers.

Chris frowned, pushing the plate away. He willed his brother to burst down the door that very minute to come rescue him. But Martin and the team had no idea where he was. Gourmand didn’t rely on fancy, state-of-the-art equipment like Zach or Donita. Tracking an old beat-up boat... plane...? Whatever Gourmand liked to call this Frankenstein contraption, was really hard to do.

Last time he had seen the team they were in the Northwest Territories. Where Gourmand was currently heading was a mystery, even to Chris, his unwilling travel buddy.

“So what’s the plan today?” Chris put his elbow on the table and leaned his head in his hand. “Any ransom plans? Or maybe you feel like just setting me free?”

Chris had asked similar questions every day since being kidnapped, and hadn’t gotten any answers thus far. So it came as a surprise when Gourmand finally turned around and grinned.

“I have a real treat for you.” He said, wiping his hands on a cloth. “You and I are going out today.”

“Out?” Chris repeated, lifting his head. This might finally be his chance to escape. He would have to play his cards right. “What do you mean?”

“We’re going on a hike. Doesn’t that sound nice?” He smiled.

“Let me guess... to get to an animal ‘off the beaten path’?”

“You’re learning already!” Gourmand grinned. “Now, now, my little cabbage, don’t get your boxers in a bunch. I think you’ll really enjoy our little creature adventure.”

“Please don’t call poaching a creature adventure.” Chris growled.

“Can you at least be happy that it isn’t an endangered animal?” Gourmand said as he walked around the kitchen island and stood next to Chris.

“What is it you’re after?”

“Elk.”

“Did you purchase hunting tags at least?”

“Do I really need to answer that?”

“You’re unbelievable.” Chris frowned. “If you won’t legally hunt, you could buy from an elk farm!”

“Let’s go, Green Grape.” Gourmand ignored him, grabbing his backpack of kitchen tools and a rifle from a closet.

“Why are you bringing me? I thought I was your prisoner.” Chris wondered. He was happy to go, of course. There was a chance he could escape, or at the very least, keep Gourmand from killing anything. The chef had to know that.

“You’re going to be my tracker.” Gourmand smiled.

“Not a chance.” Chris stood up and crossed his arms.

“I’m not giving you a choice.” Gourmand frowned. “Up until now, I’ve been real nice to you. Treated you like a guest. I’d be happy to tie you down and make your life miserable during your extended stay.”

“I’m not going to let you hurt any animals, so tie me down if you have to.” Chris said, his voice more confident than he actually felt inside.

“That’s too bad.” Gourmand shrugged. “I thought you’d enjoy getting off the jet for a bit. Regardless of what you choose, I am bringing back an elk carcass tonight.”

Chris had to stop the man, even if it meant leading him to the poor creatures. “Fine.” He ground out.

“Lovely.” Gourmand smiled, walking towards the door. “Be a good boy today and I’ll cook you a lovely elk steak for dinner.”

“I’m a vegetarian.” He grumbled.

“That’s a shame.” Gourmand frowned, stepping outside. Chris took a deep breath as he followed outside. It was the first time being outside the vehicle for the first time in weeks.

The chef knew his prey well, and had brought them to the perfect location. They were in the Rocky Mountain foothills, in a medium to old-growth boreal forest. There were wide swaths of open grasslands, and even a large lake in the distance. Chris had immediately spied hoof prints in the mud, as soon as they stepped onto the ground.

Gourmand grinned, and motioned him forward with the barrel of his rifle.

Chris had been with Gourmand now for at least a week or two. The days were starting to run together. Even though he was technically a prisoner, he had been treated really well. Chris had almost forgotten what a monster Gourmand really was. As he tracked ahead of the older man, he was constantly aware of him, and his rifles presence.

As Chris followed signs of the herd, he thought about his experience so far. Gourmand had actually surprised him with his secret knowledge on vegetation, and the fact that he enjoyed hiking... even if it was for all the wrong reasons. And after many home cooked meals, Chris couldn’t deny that the man had real talent as a chef. But he was also still a poacher, and an all-around jerk. The two personalities just didn’t mix.

He hadn’t figured out the puzzle that was Gourmand by the time the two of them reached the crest of a hill. That was where they found the herd, grazing in a valley by the lake.

“I tracked. The rest of the work is on you.” Chris huffed.

“Good boy.” Gourmand smiled, cocking the rifle. Chris frowned as he watched the older man slowly creep towards the herd. Once he was within shooting distance, he took aim. This was it.

“Sorry, elk.” Chris sighed, hoping he wasn’t sacrificing their lives for his. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled towards the herd. Their heads snapped up and they immediately started running. Gourmands figure disappeared in the mayhem and Chris took his chance.

Chris ran. He was smaller and in better shape than Gourmand, so he only needed to outrun the man until he could find cover. He heard two gun shots somewhere behind him, and Chris was disgusted with himself as he hoped they were directed at the elk and not himself.

Once he crossed the clearing he dove through the underbrush into the safety of the trees. In the cover of the forest, Chris could finally breathe freely. He knew how to traverse and survive in the boreal forest. He was finally safe. A few kilometres in, he stopped and listened but heard no sounds of pursuit.

“Alright Chris. Time to find civilization.” He smiled, feeling more at ease than he had in the last few days. He knew there was a strong chance he had stranded himself in the middle of nowhere, but living off the forest for a while was still better than living with Gourmand.

Chris descended on a narrow wooden section of forest when he heard some pine needles rustling behind him. His heart rate quickened, thinking Gourmand had caught up to him. Instead, he turned and saw a mountain lion about 10 feet away.

Cougars tended to hunt humans only in desperation, and this cat looked desperate and mean. Chris put up his arms and yelled to try to intimidate the lion but it lunged.

Its jaws locked onto his hand and wrist. Chris could feel the teeth grind against bone and the blood started to pour from the lion’s mouth. Then the cougar wrapped itself around Chris’ body, and dug its front claws into his back. He screamed and thrashed, but the large cat wouldn’t budge.

Chris felt a wave of fear, realizing that this was going to be a struggle for life or death, and he was no match without his creature power suit. The mountain lion was heavy, causing Chris to buckle, and they tumbled together 20 feet off the trail into a gully.

The lion was now on its back, but its teeth were still firmly clamped onto the Chris’ wrist, and it was still scratching at him with its claws. Chris scrabbled around the ground with his free hand, looking for any type of stick or rock he could use as a weapon. Then there was a shadow, and the cat let him go.

Panting, Chris rolled onto his hands and knees, ready in case the lion attacked again. Instead he watched as Gourmand wrestled the cat, using his ample size to his advantage.

The chef had the cat pinned down with one leg on its hindquarters, and had managed to get a foot on its windpipe. The lion struggled under Gourmands weight, gasping for air.

“Let it go, Gourmand!” Chris pleaded. The chef snarled, pressing down harder.

“This beast tried to kill you.” He huffed. “It deserves to die!”

“No! No it doesn’t.” Chris crawled pathetically over to the man and put his good hand on Gourmands arm. “It was desperate. It’s my fault. Please don’t kill it!”

Gourmand stared into Chris’ eyes for a moment before finally relenting. As he released the pressure, the cat scrambled out from beneath him and off into the underbrush.

“Thank you.” Chris sighed in relief.

“Are you okay?” Gourmand asked, gently grabbing Chris’ forearm so as not to agitate the gaping cuts further.

“Yes, thank you. Again.” Chris whispered, feeling his face heat up. 

“Come on. Let’s get you patched up.” Gourmand said, looping an arm under Chris’.

“N-no. I’m not going back with you!”

“Chris, your wrist and back are shredded. I’m surprised you haven’t passed out from blood loss. Add to that, we’re miles from the nearest town. Do you think you can make it on your own?

“...no.”

“That’s right. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” Gourmand said, gently lifting Chris off the ground. The world tilted from the motion, making him squeeze his eyes shut. Chris apparently had lost a lot of blood.

“I’m sorry about your chef whites.” Chris mumbled, knowing he was probably trickling blood down the front of Gourmands jacket. The chef had insisted on carrying him bridal style through the forest. It was an impressive feat, if Chris was being honest. Gourmand was definitely strong.

The chef didn’t say anything, instead focussed on the task of carrying him through the underbrush. Chris felt embarrassed. He was a seasoned field biologist. A cougar should have never gotten the upper hand like that. And gourmand of all people had rescued him.

He would have been able to move past it if the man had been angry with him, or even teased him, but the silent hero act got to Chris more than he cared to admit.

“I can’t believe you wrestled a mountain lion.” Chris shook his head in disbelief. “Why did you do it?

“Let it go? I don’t know. I suppose because you begged me to.”

“No, why did you risk your life to save me? Wouldn’t being a poacher be easier if I weren’t around?”

“Yes, I suppose it would, but then I wouldn’t get to see your beautiful brown eyes glaring back at me.” Gourmand said with a side grin.

Chris regretted asking. For the rest of the trip, Chris focussed on not passing out or throwing up.

Back at the boat, Gourmand had gently stitched up Chris’ wrist, and wrapped it up. Then he cleaned out the scratches on his back, which thankfully weren’t as bad as he originally thought. His shoulder had taken the worst damage, and deep scratches gouged his skin from the bottom of his shoulder blade to his neck.

“You’re not as scrawny as I first thought.” Gourmand commented, a finger tracing one of his back muscles. The sensation caused Chris to shiver involuntarily.

“Thanks… I guess.” He replied. 

“That should do you for now. We’ll check on the injuries again in a bit.” The chef’s large hands trailed down Chris’ biceps. “Now to figure out dinner. I promised you steak, but you weren’t a very good boy, now were you?”

Chris froze. Was this the moment Gourmand lashed out at him? He had been lulled into a false sense of security, after all. The man was a monster, he was evil, he was – laughing?

“You should see your face. Like a deer in headlights.” Gourmand chuckled. “I’m not that mad. I would have tried to run if I were in your shoes. Besides, I’d say you’ve been punished enough.”

Gourmand gently helped Chris stand, but again the world started to tilt. “Hmm, you better lay down. Lost too much blood I think.”

Chris groaned as he settled on the bed, his shoulder screaming in pain. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he could feel his eyelids getting heavier. The last thing he saw was Gourmand tucking him in before he passed out.

-

The mountain lion released Chris’ wrist, but instead clamped down on his neck. Hot blood spilled down the front of his jacket and into his throat. He choked out a scream and thrashed but the cougar only dug its claw in deeper. It was shredding his skin as it dragged him further into the underbrush.

Suddenly there were hands on his shoulders and someone calling out his name. Chris bolted upright, finding himself tangled in his bedsheets and Gourmand sitting on the bed next to him. Still confused, he immediately reached for his neck, checking for the bite marks and the blood.

“Shhhh, shhh. It was a dream.” Gourmand placated him. Chris realized he was sobbing and shaking. It had been a dream. Gourmand had saved him. “You’re safe.”

There was no lion and he was safe. Chris wanted to laugh at the irony of being safe with Gourmand, but he couldn’t calm his ragged breathing. Then the chef reached out and cupped Chris’ face. “Just breathe. That’s right. You’re doing just fine.”

Chris listened to Gourmands soothing words, finally catching his breath and calming down. It was just a dream. He was safe with Gourmand.

“Thanks...” Chris sighed. “I was dreaming about-“

“I know, it’s okay.” Gourmand replied, running his thumbs along Chris’ cheeks. The contact made Chris blush, and he wasn’t sure why.

Then Gourmand leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. It was so brief, he had pulled away before Chris could really register what was happening. Chris reached up and ran his fingers along his lips, confused.

“Alright. Back to bed, my little cabbage.” Gourmand smiled as he let go of Chris and stood up. “Rest better now. Like I said, you’re safe with me.”

Gourmand closed the door behind him, leaving Chris still sitting in bed in the dark.

His mind was racing. Gourmand was his enemy, his tormenter, his kidnapper... and yet the man was also his saviour, his protector, his healer. Chris was already confused about how to feel towards the man, when Gourmand went ahead and kissed him.

Chris had never been kissed by a man before. He wasn’t against the idea, only he would never have entertained the idea of kissing Gourmand of all people. But it hadn’t been bad. In fact, it was soft and gentle. Chris could still feel the phantom touch on his lips.

He shook his head. This was ridiculous. He had obviously lost a lot of blood today and was delirious. Chris laid back down and tried to quiet the unwanted thoughts swirling in his head.

-

The next morning, Chris woke up earlier than Gourmand. There were no sounds of activity in the kitchen, no delicious smells wafting through the vehicle. It was quiet and peaceful.

Memories from yesterday and last night raced through his mind, but he still wasn’t any closer to understanding how he felt about any of it. Tired of dwelling on his confused thoughts, he kicked off his blankets and got out of bed.

The claw marks on his back we’re looking, and feeling, worse today. His wrist gave a painful throb, but Gourmands wrapping was definitely helping support the injury.

He groaned as he hobbled around the room, searching for his clothing, only to come up short handed. Gourmand must have washed, or more likely thrown out his tattered clothing from yesterday. It looked like Chris’ only option was to either wrap a sheet around him like a toga, or throw on something from the closet.

He frowned at the clean and pressed chef jackets hanging in the closet before giving in.

Chris was tired and sore. He decided what he really needed was comfort food. He dug through the cupboards and pantry, pulling the ingredients for pancakes, and got to work.

Chris was washing out one of the bowls, when thick, sturdy arms folded around his torso. He jumped; startled at the warm, minty breath that exhaled by his ear.

“Green Pea,” Gourmand said quietly. “I didn’t think you’d be up and about.”

“I’m feeling better and got hungry.” Chris said shyly. He set the bowl aside to dry, and grabbed another dirty dish. “Sorry if I woke you. You can go back to bed.”

“You should be in bed. Why don’t you come back with me?” Gourmand asked boldly, his arms tightening, chest pressing up against Chris’ back. Chris exhaled, feeling the chef’s arms move with his breathing.

“N-no Gourmand. It wouldn’t be right.” Chris decided, setting another dish aside.  
Gourmand gave an unsatisfied hum. His hands smoothed down the front of Chris’ navel, until they reached the hem of the jacket. It dwarfed his smaller frame, coming to a stop midway down his thigh.

“My chef whites look good on you.” Gourmand purred.

“M-my clothing was gone. I grabbed the first thing I could find.” Chris stuttered, blushing furiously.

“Your sweater was shredded, unfortunately. It’s gone. But I washed your clothing.” Gourmand explained, still pressed against Chris. “I could take you shopping though. I’d love to see you in chef whites that hug your lithe frame.”

Chris was having a hard time responding, let alone form coherent thoughts. Gourmand’s hand slid between the buttons of the jacket, his fingertips pressing into the squish of Chris’ stomach, up and down his navel. It made his stomach do flip flops.

He didn’t want this, and yet, most surprisingly, he found himself wanting to see where it was leading. Maybe he had hit his head on a rock while wresting the mountain lion. Maybe this was all some demented dream he was having.

“I’m cooking.” Chris replied, too breathily.

“And you’re doing a beautiful job, at that.” Gourmand grinned, glancing over Chris’ shoulder. “So is that a yes or a no to the chef whites?”

“Go sit down.” Chris ignored him, slipping out of his grip and over to the range. Gourmand thankfully listened, taking a seat at the kitchen bar and watching him with hungry eyes.

Chris slid a plate of pancakes to him, watching the man critically as he took a bite.

“These are really good, Green Pea.” The chef said as he dug into the food. A comfortable silence settled over them as Chris continued to clean the dishes while Gourmand ate. 

Gourmand was getting bolder and hands-y, as this morning proved. Chris was worried what would happen over the next few weeks if his captivity continued any longer. He glanced up at the man, to find him staring out the window. His brows were knit together, and he put his fork down loudly.

“What’s wrong?” Chris asked, cocking his head. “Did you change your mind about my amazing cooking skills?”

Gourmand jumped up from his stool, knocking it over. He came around the island and grabbed Chris hard enough to force him forward, but still gentle enough to not agitate his injuries.

“What are you doing!?” Chris demanded.

“Sorry about this.” Gourmand said with a frown. It was all the warning Chris got before his injured arm was wrenched backwards with his other, and tied together. Chris cried out, but Gourmand was relentless. He shoved him by the shoulder and threw him down onto a wooden chair.

“Why?” Chris begged, as Gourmand wrapped a cord around his torso, securing him to the chair. “Why are you doing this now, after all these weeks? Is it because I rejected your advances?”

“Your annoying brother and the rest of your pathetic team is here. Right now.” Gourmand said, silencing Chris. “They’ve come to rescue you. I was distracted. By you. I should have been watching. We should have been on the move. But your injuries...”

“Then just let me go, Gourmand!”

“Come on, you don’t want them to think I’ve gone soft, do you?” Gourmand grinned, pulling out a roll of duct tape.

“I won’t tell them.” Chris said quietly.

“I know you won’t.” Gourmand said softly. He leaned down and pressed his lips against Chris’, this time his tongue snaked its way inside. Chris knew he should pull away, fight back, but instead he let it happen.

There was a bang on the door, and Gourmand pulled back. He ripped a strip of tape off and slapped it over Chris’ mouth. “This is so that your team doesn’t realize what a traitor of a team member you are. They’ll wonder why you didn’t try to escape sooner, why you allowed yourself to wallow in the lap of luxury while they frantically searched for you, why you willingly spread your legs for your enemy.”

Chris growled, unable to speak through the tape. The banging on the door grew louder and harder, as if whoever was on the other side was trying to break it down.

“Yes, Green Pea. I know that’s now how it was.” Gourmand ran a gentle hand through Chris’ hair. “Even if I wish it was. Deep down inside, whether you like to admit it or not, there is a part of you that enjoyed some parts of this little holiday.”

Gourmands hand travelled down Chris cheek to his injured shoulder. “But unfortunately, you and I both have to play our parts convincingly, so your team doesn’t suspect anything.”

Then Gourmand clenched his fist, digging his fingers into the claw marks. Chris couldn’t hold back the scream that tore from his throat. The pain was blinding. He was so lost in the agony that he didn’t hear the door burst open.

Gourmands hand was ripped away from his shoulder, and Chris breathed heavily through his nose. When he refocused, he was face to face with Martin. His brother was in an activated creature power suit, but Chris could easily recognize the familiar blue eyes.

Avila and Koki were there too, holding Gourmand down against the ground. Then it hit Chris. All three of them were wearing cougar power suits. It only made sense, the cougar being one of the larger, stronger, and faster creatures in the local area. How could they have known the effect it would have on Chris?

Chris’ breathing went from heavy to ragged. It was hard to pull air into his lungs, like it had been when the cougar had its weight on him. He swore he could feel the nails digging into his shoulder, the feeling of teeth grinding against bone.

“What’s wrong, Chris? What did he do to you!?” Martin demanded, trying to hold Chris still as he thrashed in the bindings.

“He’s having a panic attack!” Gourmand yelled from the ground, struggling to get free. “You have to deactivate!”

“No, this is a trick.” Martin said to the girls. All three of them looked unsure though.

“Then you deactivate and get him out of here.” Gourmand sneered.

Martin thankfully didn’t fight the man on the issue. He used his claws to slice through the ropes before deactivating and carrying Chris outside.

“Hey, hey! It’s okay Bro, I’ve got you.” Martin cooed as he carried Chris straight from one ship into another. The sight of the Tortuga helped Chris calm down almost immediately. For the first time in weeks, he was truly safe.

“A cougar.” Chris gasped, trying to calm his breathing. “I was attacked yesterday.”

“You were attacked and now you’re having post traumatic anxiety. And we burst in, dressed like cougars... shit, Chris. We had no idea!” Martin put him down on a chair by the centre console and starting looking over his injuries. Chris could tell his brother was itching to go back outside and deal with Gourmand, but knew Chris needed him.

“Gourmand made me track a herd of elk, and I escaped. I ran right into a desperate mountain lion. It was Gourmand who ended up saving me.” Chris slumped in his seat.

“I don’t understand Chris. He was torturing you when we got in there, but then was almost panicking when you were having an anxiety attack.” Martin mused. “It almost seemed like he was genuinely concerned.”

“I don’t know, Martin. Maybe he did.” Chris tip-toed around the truth. “He’s sick and twisted. I think it was some sort of mind trick he was playing.”

“I’m thankful he saved your life, but it just doesn’t make sense.”

“I know. I asked him the same thing.” Chris admitted. Martin didn’t need to know that Gourmand had given him a reply to the question.

“Well... you’re back now. Safe with me and the team. I promise to never lose you again, okay?”

“Yeah.” Chris smiled.

“Martin!” Someone called from outside. Both brothers immediately stood up and raced outside.

At some point, Gourmand had broken free of the girls, and managed to grab a weapon. He had managed to pin the girls to the ground with his dough-ball gun.

Typical Martin made to attack but was thrown to the ground by a dough-ball. His dear brother never stopped to think before rushing head first into confrontation. Chris frowned as Gourmand turned the gun at him. Was this really how Gourmand wanted him to remember their little “vacation”?

“Enough, Gourmand. It’s over.” Chris said calmly, like talking to a spooked animal. Gourmand stared at Chris, contemplating.

“For now, I suppose.” Gourmand shrugged, and gave him a big wink. Chris could feel his cheeks warm, and hoped none of the team noticed. “You’re sure you want to go? I thought things were starting to get fun.”

Chris wondered if he physically bristled at the comment, because Gourmand chuckled and added: “Alright, alright, Green Pea. I’ll miss you. Until next time, then.”

Chris stood there, trying to think of something, anything, to say. Gourmand simply laughed and retreated back into his boat. A moment later the whole vehicle transformed into a jet and took off.

He wasn’t sure why, but Chris felt disappointed. He thought for sure Gourmand would have put up more of a fight for him. Or maybe it was because Chris hadn’t said anything as the man left. But why should he feel this way? It’s not like he enjoyed being held captive...

“I can’t believe he got away. I’m sorry, Chris.” Aviva growled as Chris helped free her from the dough.

“We’ll get him next time.” Koki assured him. “Make him pay for hurting you.”

“And we’ll never lose you, or any other team member again.” Martin agreed, pulling off the remaining dough strands from his sweater.

Chris smiled at his team. Yes, he had been held captive, but he hadn’t been scared or really hurt in the process. Gourmand had mostly been civil towards him, and treated him as a guest. It was nice to know the team would have his back when he needed it, but with Gourmand, Chris wasn’t sure he’d need the help.

The team was worried that Chris had been traumatized by the experience and were jumping to help assure him. Chris, however, was looking forward to the next interaction, even if he would never admit it.

**Author's Note:**

> Hahahaha, I'm sorry for writing this, and I'm sorry you wasted your time reading it. I hope you enjoyed it just a tiny little bit.


End file.
